Simmering Love (Slow Burn Book 3)

by Jacie Lennon

  “Ben got hurt. I need to go to the hospital.”

  “Want me to ride with you?” she asks, sitting up with a worried look on her face.

  “No, it’s late. Mason, my cousin, is there.”

  Andi nods.

  I motion to my room. “Feel free to sleep in there.”

  I throw on some jeans and a shirt that isn’t rumpled before darting into Ben’s room and grabbing him a change of clothes. I’m sure he’ll want to feel fresh after his stay in the hospital.

  Once I’m sure I have everything he might need, I practically run to my car and head to the hospital.

  I think back over the night as I’m driving, feeling bad that I was so focused on me when Ben went out to put his life in danger as a firefighter. I turn the music down in my car, the sounds irritating me as I think. I’m thankful that it’s only his leg, but then my mind drifts to the what-ifs before I can stop it.

  What if it weren’t just his leg? What if I’d lost him tonight?

  My heart clenches, and I press the gas a little faster, feeling better once I pull into the hospital parking lot.

  Mason stands as I enter the waiting room. Taking in my wild-eyed look, he frowns.

  “Pepper? What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, I came to bring Ben some clothes,” I say, feeling dumb, holding up my purse, where clothes are busting out.

  “Y’all are together, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly.

  I suck in a breath. Everything is so strange to me. I don’t know what Ben would want me to say, but after lying to my parents, I’m not going down that road again.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I tell him.

  He narrows his eyes for a moment, looking at me thoughtfully. “I thought his weird hug with you that night I brought him home was a little suspicious.”

  I think back to the night he got drunk and kissed me on the head while Mason watched.

  “Yeah, I mean, it’s new.” I nervously wrap my hand around the strap of my purse, squeezing. I don’t know why I feel like I want his approval, but I want Mason to be happy with my choices.

  “Ben’s a good guy,” he says, and my heart warms.

  “Can I see him?” I glance around as if I might see him leaning out of a room, waving at me.

  “Yeah, come on,” Mason says, walking up to the front desk and getting me a visitor pass.

  “Hey, stranger,” I say, smiling as I step into Ben’s room.

  His injured leg is on top of the covers, bandaged up, but there’s no cast, so I feel optimistic.

  “Pepper?” His eyes widen in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mason called me. I couldn’t just sit at home.” I step forward and gesture to his bed, and he pats it, indicating I should sit down. “How’s your leg?”

  “It’s just a bad ankle sprain.”

  “What happened?”

  “Tripped and fell, going down some stairs, but I’m all right. We got everyone out, and that’s all that matters.”

  What if it had fallen on his head instead of his leg? I shudder at the thought.

  “I’m glad it wasn’t worse,” I say softly, and our eyes meet.

  “Me too.” He stares a beat longer before letting his head drift back against the pillow. “Mark was there.”

  “What?” I say with a gasp. “He was where?”

  “In the building. I found him. That’s where he’d called me from.”

  “Oh my God, is he okay? Where is he?”

  “He was unconscious. I haven’t seen him since, but I’ve asked for information. Mason is supposed to let me know as soon as he hears.”

  “Unconscious? What happened?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. The door was blocked. And there was another guy locked in the bathroom with him, who just left. I think someone did it to him. I think they tried to scare or kill him.” Ben reaches up to rub his eyes, a look of utter exhaustion on his face.

  “Ben, I’m so sorry. I’m so happy you’re okay though.”

  I lean forward, awkwardly wrapping my arms around him, and he reaches to smooth his hand down my back.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” he says.

  I shake my head. “Don’t be. It’s not important.”

  “It’s important to me. I … we had sex, and then I left without being able to talk about it. To talk about us. I don’t want you to think I’m not into you. It wasn’t just sex for me.”

  “It wasn’t for me either, Ben. I know you had to go. I don’t hold that against you.” My words are muffled in his chest as he continues to stroke my back. The touch sends goose bumps down my body. “So, what are the plans? Do you have to stay here?”

  “Since it’s just a bad sprain, they’re giving me meds, and I think maybe I’ll get crutches, but I should have discharge papers in the next few hours.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” I say with a smile and shimmy my body up, lying beside him.

  He wraps an arm around me, pulling me in close, and I inhale, thankful that he’s okay and not injured any worse.

  25

  Pepper

  The day after Ben came home, I took him back to the hospital to see Mark, but they informed us that once he was bandaged up, he requested to leave at the disapproval of his doctors. Ben’s phone calls to Mark have all gone straight to voice mail, and he assumes Mark either doesn’t have his phone or is ignoring his calls.

  The next few days after that have been weird. It’s like there’s been a shift between us, and I’m not sure what it is. Everything was fine as we cuddled on the hospital bed, but now, with the pain his ankle gives him and him not being able to move much, he’s kind of reverted into a shell of himself.

  We almost go to being just roommates again. The difference is, now, I’m kind of like his caretaker, and I take my job very seriously. Maybe too seriously. I think I took it too far when I offered to give him a sponge bath.

  I’m sitting in the den after getting home from classes, thankful I’m not scheduled to work tonight so that I can be here.

  “Hey, Pep?” Ben’s voice floats down the hall from his room, and I jump from where I’m sitting on the couch, trying to give him space. “Can I get a hand in here?”

  Oh my God, he needs me.

  I hurry down the hall and stop in the doorway, seeing him sitting on the side of his bed. He’s trying to move his bound ankle off the bed while reaching for his crutches. I step into the room and stand in front of him as he looks at me.

  “Need the bathroom?” I ask.

  Jeez, I sound like his mom.

  “Nah, I thought I would come sit out in the den with you.”

  “You did?”

  He’s been holed up in his room for the entire time, only talking to me when I ask him questions.

  “Yeah, I think my room needs to be aired out.”

  It does, but I was trying to be polite since he does have a sprained ankle and all that.

  “Great. Let me open your window and turn on your fan.”

  I run around the room, flinging blinds up and trying to freshen it up the best I can, while Ben sits there, watching me, a frown on his face.

  “I wasn’t being serious,” he says, eyeing me.

  “Oh, well … I was.” I give him a sweet smile and continue trying to air out the room. “It’s not smelly, just needs some sunlight.”

  I grab his crutches from where they are resting against the wall and hand them to him. Then, I help pull him to standing. Well, I try to pull. I don’t budge him much, and he ends up having to do most of it himself. I throw his comforter back as soon as he stands up, and I strip the sheets in record time, throwing them and the extra clothing on the floor into a laundry basket to put in the wash later.

  “Where are your second set of sheets?” I ask Ben.

  When he doesn’t answer, I glance up at him from where I’m tossing pillows back on the bed. He’s staring at me blankly, and I straighten up and put my hands on my hips.

  “You do have a second set o
f sheets, right?”

  “No. Should I?”

  He furrows his brow, and I fight the urge to laugh.

  “Do you just wash these immediately and put them back on?”

  “Yes. Doesn’t everyone?”

  “I can’t speak for everyone, but I have three sets of sheets—two for summer and one for winter.”

  “What happens when you have to wash the winter set?”

  “I just put a summer one on until it’s done.”

  Ben nods and starts toward the door, moving his crutches forward and then swinging his body after, ankle lifted. His face contorts in pain, and I almost tell him to lie back down but stop myself. He doesn’t need to lie in this dark, stuffy cave he calls a room all the time. It will be good for him to get out and sit in the den.

  “Do you need any of your painkillers?”

  “No, I’m okay.” He continues his slow process down the hall.

  I beat him to the couch, which isn’t very hard, considering the snail’s pace he’s moving at right now. I lean down and fluff the pillows before he sits, and I move the coffee table closer to the couch, placing a pillow where he can rest his foot on top of it.

  “Thanks,” he grunts as he sits.

  I nod and wring my hands as I watch him settle in. Part of me wants to fuss over him, and the other part of me knows that I can’t take one more grumpy, unappreciative look from him, so I do the next best thing and head to the kitchen for drinks and snacks.

  “What do you want to drink? We have Gatorade, sweet tea, and water.” I pop my head around the corner and look at him.

  “Do we have anything stronger?” He raises an eyebrow, and I frown. “I’m kidding,” he says with a grin.

  I’m so taken aback that he’s making a joke after his melancholy attitude the last few days that I just stare at him until he clears his throat.

  “Sorry. I just haven’t seen you smile in a while. It’s nice.”

  I smile back at him, and we spend a few seconds staring at each other.

  “Water is fine. Do you have any more of those chocolate chip cookies?”

  I step back around the corner and smile to myself.

  He likes my cookies.

  “Sure do. It’s my grandma’s secret recipe, so don’t ask for it.”

  I stuff three cookies in one hand and two bottles of water in my other and walk to the den. I set everything down on the table and grab the remote from the TV stand.

  “I don’t need the recipe when I have you here to make them for me.” He leans forward to grab two cookies, taking a big bite out of one and settling back against the couch.

  “I’ll make them whenever you want them.” I sit down on the other end, careful not to jostle him or his leg. “Do you need me to adjust your leg at all?”

  “Pepper, I’m perfectly capable of adjusting my leg.” He smirks, and I can feel my cheeks flush.

  I turn my attention back to the TV, flipping through the channels before landing on Chopped, my favorite cooking show where the contestants have to cook with mystery ingredients.

  “You think you could help me with something?” he asks.

  I widen my eyes, excited that he seems to be perking up. “Of course.”

  “I think I’m going to apply to go back to school. I think it’s time I pursue what I want to do.”

  “To get your master’s?”

  “Yes, I’ve been researching it, and I think I can swing it. I need to focus on myself too.”

  “I think so too,” I say softly.

  He gives me a slight grin. “I thought you might help with the application process since you just went through your own.” He shrugs.

  I’m so happy for him. He deserves this.

  “I can do that,” I say.

  He nods, sitting back and munching on another cookie.

  “Let’s play Truth or Dare but with one difference,” I say, opening my water bottle and taking a long drink.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “There is no dare since you can’t move.” I gesture to his leg.

  “So, you want to play Truth or Truth?”

  He chuckles, and I grin.

  “Well … I guess that’s really what it is.”

  “Why don’t you just ask me whatever you want to ask me?”

  “It’s more fun in a game.”

  “But it won’t be a game if you can’t pick anything other than truth.”

  “Dadgummit, Ben. You are sucking the fun out of Truth or Truth.” I laugh and pull my legs up, crossing them under me as I angle my body toward him.

  “Okay, you go first.”

  “Truth or truth?” I say.

  He smiles and then squints his eyes. “Hmm. That’s a hard one. I’m going to pick truth.”

  I can feel my heart pounding, and I resist the urge to wipe my palms on my shirt. “Good choice. How long have you liked me?”

  Maybe I went for the childish version of Truth or Truth, but I want answers.

  Ben pauses for a moment as he looks at me. His face is carefully blank, and I stare back expectantly.

  “Went for a hard first question, huh? Aren’t you supposed to ask for my favorite color?”

  “Already know your favorite color. Now, quit stalling.”

  “How do you know what my favorite color is?”

  “It’s obvious that it’s green, the color of your entire room. Now, answer the question, Ben,” I say jokingly through clenched teeth.

  “Since I met you, I’ve felt an attraction.”

  I blink and then stare at him.

  Since he met me?

  He’s been attracted to me since he met me. So, what were we doing, being just friends this whole time?

  “You know we’d met before all this, right?”

  “We did?” He grabs his third cookie and starts on it.

  “Yep, at the holiday party. I thought you looked familiar when we met, but I couldn’t place it until Mason told me you were there.”

  “I had a feeling we had met too. It’s coming back to me. It was when you and Mason were arguing.” His eyes are wide like he can’t believe he didn’t think of it himself.

  “So, was that when you started liking me?” I give him a teasing smile.

  He rolls his eyes. “No, it was about the time you came in and talked my ear off about nothing while waving your bottle of mace in the air.”

  I cover my mouth before I spit my water out. “Oh my God, I forgot that I had mace when we met.” I start laughing and sit back. My heart races, and butterflies tumble around in my stomach as I remember the day we met right here, in this apartment. All because of this couch we’re now sitting on. “You never got to sell your couch.” I run my hand over the cushion underneath me.

  “It’s okay. I have better memories of it now,” he says and gives me a wink.

  I let the uncertainty of the last few days wash off of me. This Ben is the old Ben, the Ben I’ve grown to know and … maybe even love?

  Love? Do I love him?

  “Scoot over here,” he says, and I glance at the space between us.

  I shift toward him, tucking my body under his outstretched arm and laying my head on his chest.

  “My turn. Truth or truth?” His voice vibrates low beneath my ear.

  “Hmm. Truth.” I smile against him.

  “What did you think about the other night?”

  I pause a moment, thinking over his question. “The night we had sex?”

  “Yeah,” he says.

  I blush. I’m glad I’m lying on him because he can’t see my face.

  “Why are you asking that?” I stall, trying to get my thoughts together. It was great and wonderful. But I don’t want to seem too eager.

  “Because we haven’t talked much about it, and it was a huge moment for both of us.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So? What are your thoughts?”

  He reaches up, lightly tickling my ribs, and I squirm. I suck in a deep breath and sit up sl
ightly, tucking my chin in my palm as I rest my other arm behind his shoulders.

  “It was amazing,” I say, a smile on my lips, and I’m pretty sure I’m turning even redder. “Amazing for me. I mean, since it was my first time, I didn’t know what I was doing, and you were so thoughtful to make me feel comfortable.”

  “That was my goal.”

  “You succeeded.”

  We pause. It should be awkward, but it’s not. I’m happy that he brought it up, so I can stop thinking so hard about it.

  “Was it good? You know … for you?”

  “Oh my God, Pep. It was fantastic. You don’t think I didn’t like it, do you?”

  I shrug a little and glance away from him. He sits up, turning to face me more.

  Putting a hand on each side of my face, he looks me in the eyes and grins. “I loved every second of it, and I can’t wait to do it again.”

  He searches my gaze before leaning in, laying a sweet kiss on my lips. I sigh against him, my toes curling with the warmth seeping over my body.

  “I can’t wait either,” I say, glancing down at his ankle. “Whenever you’re ready, of course.” I lay my head back on his chest, enjoying the moment.

  We sit for a while, watching the chef on-screen pour alcohol over candy in a hot pan to boil it down. I can’t pay attention because of Ben’s scent, the touch of his fingertips as they skim across my arm, the thump of his heart where my head is resting. Without realizing it, my hand drifts up and over him, skimming along his stomach until it meets the hem of his shirt, and I run one finger right along the sliver of skin above his athletic shorts. I can feel his abs clench, as if it tickles, and I grin. His heart starts beating faster, and I raise my head to find his eyes on me.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he says, clearing his throat.

  I continue my tickling, enjoying his reaction and also getting to touch his fantastic body. Too bad his ankle is sprained. I would love to jump his bones right now.

  I let my finger drift down, tucking under the waistband of his shorts, and he inhales a quick breath. I don’t stop rubbing back and forth. His hand has stilled on my arm, gripping a little as he freezes. I can’t stop, or I’ll lose my courage. I mean, I’ve seen his penis before. I’ve touched his penis before. But I’ve never put my mouth on it, and I’m not stopping until I do—right now. Come hell or high water.